he was shivering. 'You have done well,' said Turval in a fatherly manner. Vance was grateful for the comment; congratulations and commendations were something he never received from his own father as a child. 'I am sorry your trial had to be so much harder than the rest. But you will come to understand why in due course.'
Vance had no idea what Turval meant by this comment, but he was too fatigued to ask right now. Turval held out an ornate crystal flask, and Vance eagerly grasped it and pressed it to his lips. Cool water ran down his throat without a trace of the sickly metallic taste he had endured for God knew how long. When the flask was emptied, Turval led him out of the tunnel. Vance followed like a sheep, unable to do anything else. 'So what was the point in that?' he asked, surprising himself with the candid nature of his question.
Turval paused as he carefully weighed an answer. 'What do you think the point was?' he said finally.
Vance hadn't expected that. Surely Turval was supposed to be the teacher. 'I don't know. At first I thought it might be endurance, survival, sensory and physical depravation. They're both used in all kinds of military training. But what was the point of the test? There didn't seem to be any kind of test to it. Survive or die, until you work out that there is no exit? Then give up. I don't know - you're the expert.'
'There is no way out of the maze, yet you did not cry out for help or beg for mercy,' said Turval, stopping. The tall Minbari turned to face Vance, who still shivered uncontrollably in the chill tunnel. 'Even when you knew there was some kind of creature in there with you, and possibly a hostile one at that, you still did not break. And when you finally realised there was nothing to be done, you sought strength through